


Orange

by WritingForTheRevolution



Series: Shades of You [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Colors, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Infidelity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-03 18:49:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14002347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingForTheRevolution/pseuds/WritingForTheRevolution
Summary: Flamboyant, energetic, confident, free.You can feel orange.





	Orange

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back.
> 
> I kinda abandoned this series back in August because everything got so busy and then I did the Christmas thing. (and I still need to finish that... oops) But here I am.
> 
> Again, if you haven't read the first two parts of this series, I suggest that you do, since they all build off what happens in Red.

Orange.

It was the color of the sunrise against the towering skyscrapers in the heart of the city, and the color of the upbeat music that blasted from the radio in the kitchen. It was the color of the goldfish in the tank John kept in his dorm, and the shade of the most vibrant fabrics Hercules stitched together for ostentatious clients. It was the feeling of happiness he felt around his friends, the energy that surrounded them when they were together, and the sensation he wanted to create for others.

It was a happy color.

It was color of the fruit they passed around as the sat on the grass, the sweet taste of the juice as they bit through the skin. It was the shade of the leaves that lay strewn across the dying grass on the quad, the color of the scarf that Herc had made, the one that Laf now wore looped around his neck when he walked around campus in the fall.

It was the color of the bright polish that slowly chipped off his nails, from a few weeks before when Laf had convinced Hercules to let him paint them, and it was the confusion that he felt in his stomach every time Laf smiled at him. It was the color that surrounded Laf all the time, the color in the happy energy he always seemed to possess, and the color of the brightness that sparkled in his eyes.

It was the color that hit him in the face when he realized he was in love with his boy, and the color that hit him again when he realized he couldn’t have him.

It was the color of the highlights in the the hair of the girl who Laf always had his arm wrapped around, and it was the spark that bounced across the syllables when he introduced her. 

_ Adrienne. _

It was the color of the general aura that surrounded the two of them when they were together, the sparkle that appeared in Laf’s eyes when he talked about her, the way his entire body lit up when she walked into a room.

And it was the piercing guilt he felt when he realized he was jealous, that he hated this girl for no other reason than that she was dating Laf. It appeared in the fake smile he pasted across his face when he saw them together, in the interest he feigned when Laf rambled about his wonderful girlfriend. But it was also the hope he felt when he and Laf spent time together, the feeling he reveled in when Laf’s full attention was on him.

It was the way his stomach dropped when he inevitably remembered, through all the laughter between them, that Laf would never be his. They would always just be friends.

It was the playful energy that bounced around the coffee shop, the feeling in the laughter of his friends as they sat and talked. It was the thoughts in his head as he watched Laf and Adrienne, watched them lean close and share the feeling that they created together while he stared from afar.

It was the realization in Adrienne’s gaze when they locked eyes, after he realized he was staring. It was the feeling of dread when he realized that she knew, she knew about the color they both felt around Laf, and it was the sound of the door as it slammed behind him when he walked out, when he couldn’t deal with seeing that color and not being able to touch it.

The color appeared again when he resolved to tell his friend how he felt, the color of every possible consequence that he pushed to the back of his mind. It was the determination he held onto when the color came back and told him he shouldn’t do it.

It was the glare of the setting sun when he went to get John for the squad’s movie night, the highlights on the wood of the door as he knocked but got no answer. It was the subtle color of the metal key that he pulled out of his pocket, the one that he got for emergencies only. And this color was a sign of danger, the color that appeared to warn him before something went wrong. So it was the color of the click of the lock as he opened the door, and the weird silence that pushed him back as he walked into the apartment.

It was the glitter of the glass shards that littered the wooden floor, and the color of the liquid in the bottom of a bottle that sat forgotten on the counter. It was the color of the harsh lighting in the bathroom that reflected off the mirror, and off the blade that lay next to John’s bloodied wrists. It was in the broken sobs that pierced the silence as he cried, and it was in every thought that crossed his mind as he sat on the floor and wrapped his arms around his sobbing friend. It was the anger that built up in his chest as John told him what happened, the fierce protectiveness that solidified in his mind as John mumbled words about not being enough, and the emotions he felt but didn’t voice as he held him just a little bit tighter. 

It was the color of the nervous energy, the worry in the texts that flooded his phone. And later that night, once the color, the anger, the energy had drained from his friend’s body, it was the dim light that shone from his phone screen as he texted four words to Eliza.

_ Alex cheated on John. _

It was the quiet clinking of glass as he swept the pieces off the floor, and it was exhaustion in his sigh as he sat at the small table in the kitchen and watched the color flickering in the streetlight outside the window while night fell upon the city.

The color manifested itself in his mind once again, in the silence, as it whispered to him that John was the reason he hadn’t talked to Laf. It pushed the blame to the front of his mind, and Hercules pushed it back. John had had enough of that color. He didn’t need any more.

It was the anxiety that pooled in his stomach when he decided to talk to Laf at their next movie night, to tell him about this color he felt even if Laf didn’t see him in the same color, and it was the doubt that crossed his mind as soon as he watched Laf and Adrienne walk in together.

When Eliza introduced someone new to their group; _Maria, my girlfriend,_ she said, it was the smile that spread across his face as he saw the color, the happiness in her eyes, and it was the laughter that bubbled in his chest as he watched Angelica and Peggy exchanged a large sum of money. But when he looked back at the new girl, saw her staring at someone with the color of shock and guilt painted across her face, it was the pain he saw in John’s before he muttered an excuse and rushed out of the room. It was the confusion that clouded Herc’s brain before he put the pieces together and swore, remembering the pained words that John whispered to him months ago about Alex and a girl whose skin burned with this color.

It was the color of his heartbeat as he ran after John, the color of the thoughts that invaded his mind and told him that John could deal, told him that he needed to talk to Laf. And it was the force he used to push them away.

This was the color he felt for his friends.

It was the broken sobs that enveloped John once again as he broke down, the color that asked why she was here, why he wasn’t enough, why this girl had been enough, and it covered every word that Hercules whispered to him. John was enough. He was enough, he was enough, he was enough.

And if the color tugged at his brain, told Herc that he wasn’t enough, that he didn’t deserve to share that color with Laf no matter how much he wanted to, that wasn’t important. John needed reassurance, and those reassurances came in this color. 

Herc doesn’t need the problems that come with the color. So he ignores it and tries to move on, no matter how many times the color stabs itself painfully into his heart.

Months later, it’s the color of the disbelief that crosses the face of every person in the room when John introduces his daughter, and it’s the color that shines through in his smile when he looks at the little girl who shares his freckles and his hair.

It’s also the color of the rapid burst of questions that they bombard him with when he tells them that he’s trying again with Alex, and it’s the color of the silence that Hercules keeps when he sees the doubt, the color threatening to drown John.

It’s the color of the doubt that threatens Hercules on a daily basis, the one that taunts him with what could have been if he had just talked to Laf, and the one that taunts him by telling him that nothing would have changed. He doesn’t want anyone else to feel that. John has a second chance; Hercules doesn’t. That’s all there is to it.

When they finally get together again, their whole group, and Herc sees the flash of color in Adrienne’s eyes when she holds his gaze for a second, it’s the confusion he feels as she passes by him and tells him to go for it. It’s also the color that lets him ignore the sadness in her eyes that shows the sacrifice she made while he tries to figure out what her words mean.

It’s the confusion that lingers until a week later, when Lafayette comes to him and says that he and Adrienne broke up, and then it’s the color that makes him realize he has a second chance.

So when that color finally envelops him and Laf, after being out of his reach for so long, it’s the feeling of something he’s been waiting to have for a long time. It’s the feeling of belonging, of having a chance that he never thought he’d get. It’s a color that floods every part of his body and makes him feel something amazing that he finally gets to have.

_ Happiness. _

**Author's Note:**

> Bite the peel. @lavendrr_sky


End file.
